Lady Hooper's Dress
by iamhighfunctioningsochiopathed
Summary: A crossover one shot in which Sherlock is Dr. Jekyll and Khan is Mr. Hyde.


Sherlock/Khan as Jekyll/Hyde story. Idea from Sherlollipops on tumblr. Slight Dubcon due to the nature of the Jekyll/Hyde plot.

Sherlock paced like a madman around his disheveled lab, tearing at his hair and muttering to himself. In all his years, he never anticipated for his worst experiment to be _himself. _

There had to be a way to reverse the process. He sent Hudson to the apothecary what seemed like hours ago to fetch his supplies, what was taking him so damn long? He would have gone himself, but he was apprehensive about wandering the London streets at night. Not safe. For others, that was.

He grew tired of pacing, so he sat at his desk amid the dirty test tubes and broken beakers, drumming his fingers on the desk, expecting the wood to crack and splinter under his touch. He glanced down at his open journal.

_March 3: Supplies are ready. Concoction of a serum is underway. I am hopeful._

He skimmed a bit farther down.

_April 20: It is done. The serum is complete. No animal test subjects have survived trials. A human volunteer is needed. I search fervently for a willing subject, promising adequate compensation. No takers as of late._

Skim.

_June 8: I see what I have to do now. It is the only way to test the serum. Preparations are being made for tomorrow night. God help me._

_June 9: It is midnight, and Hudson has gone to bed. I have injected myself with 10cc of the serum. Now I wait. _

_12:24: My muscles are beginning to burn. I believe it's working._

_12: 32: The ringing in my ears in only slightly worse than the throbbing in my head. Pulse is rapid._

His handwriting was becoming increasingly worse.

_12: 38: What have I done._

_12:47: If you read this, and you find my body, please tell Molly_

That one wasn't finished.

Sherlock put his head in his hands, and began to weep.

"Sir?" a voice called from behind the locked door. Sherlock quickly wiped his eyes and stormed towards the voice, flinging the door open in a bout of rage.

"Hudson, I needed these supplies HOURS ago." He snatched the paper bag from his butler, who shrank away from his fury.

"I'm sorry sir, the wheel on the carriage broke on the way back."

"Fine. Leave me." He set the bag down onto the counter and turned away from Hudson.

"Sir, when was the last time you had something to eat?"

"I don't have time to eat," he snarled, smoothing his wild hair back.

"…Very well sir. But Lady Hooper is upstairs to see you."

Sherlock looked up at him, eyes wide with fear. She couldn't be here. She wasn't supposed to be here.

"Send her away."

"Sir, she is in need of medical attention."

"What?"

"Go upstairs and see her, sir. You've been avoiding her for months. She needs her wound cleaned, if not sutured."

"…Yes. Fine. I'll be up right away."

Hudson nodded and departed from the lab.

Sherlock looked at himself in the hand mirror he had placed down here when he was conducting trials. He could barely recognize himself, with purple bags under his eyes and sunken cheeks and…was that a gray hair?

Molly sat uncomfortably in the drawing room, waiting. She hadn't seen her fiancé in months and worried for him constantly, but she knew the importance of his work. When Sherlock finally appeared with his black medical bag, she gasped. He looked as though he had been run over by a stampede of horses, and the life in his eyes that she loved so much was all but gone, faded away.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't know where else to go," she said timidly, removing her shawl and revealing three parallel gashes on her shoulder. Sherlock rushed over to her to examine the wound.

"What on earth did this to you?" He demanded, observing the claw marks.

"Not what, who. I should not have walked home alone tonight, but it was such a short distance, I never thought…"

"Tell me who did this." He was fumbling through his bag for some cloth and antiseptic.

"Some disgusting brute with greasy black hair and a top hat which covered his face. I earned this trying to run away."

Sherlock froze.

"He carried around this cane with a dragon for a handle. I haven't reported it to the police yet-"

"Molly," he said urgently, coming around to kneel before her and gently grabbing her shoulders. "You need to leave town. Go stay with your aunt in the country."

"What? Why?"

"Just do as I ask, please."

Molly looked into his tired face. She reached up to touch his cheek but he jerked away.

"What's happened to you Sherlock?"

"Nothing, I'm fine." He got up and continued tending to her wound.

"You're not. I'm worried for you. You haven't emerged from that lab in months and Hudson says you're barely eating."

"I'm working."

"Darling," she turned to face him. "Tell me what to do, I'll help you."

"…I can't be helped." He bandaged the cuts and turned away from her. Molly began to cry.

"Why are you doing this? I feel as though you're drifting farther and farther away from me." She stood up to confront him.

"Molly, _please_, go."

"If you want to break our engagement just tell me, don't string me along to watch me go mad. I'm not one of your experiments!"

"Molly, I beg you-," He stopped suddenly, feeling the bile rise in his throat.

No.

Not now. This can't happen now.

Molly turned walked to the other end of the room and crossed her arms to observe the portrait of Sherlock that she had commissioned. "You barely look like the man in this painting anymore," she said.

Sherlock did his best to remain calm. He felt his skin crawling like there were scorpions beneath it. The change was beginning. He tried to run, but his muscles locked up.

"You used to be so tender…I just don't understand."

Sherlock squeezed his eyes shut, hoping that if he concentrated hard enough, he could stop the transformation. But it was too late.

"I just…I miss you. And I worry so much."

"No need to worry, Lady Hooper," a darker, deeper voice growled behind her. It set her teeth on edge. She had to turn around to make sure that it was still Sherlock. His messy hair was covering his face, but he slicked it back with both hands to reveal fiery eyes.

Molly remained still, not sure what to do or say. She watched her lover grin at her in a way which made the hairs stand up on the back of her neck.

Suddenly he sauntered towards her, pushing her up against the wall and stealing a ravenous kiss.

"What-,"

"Right here, right now," he rumbled against her parted lips.

"What has gotten in to you?" she asked, startled by his sudden lust.

"You. The way you tease in this lovely dress," he said, ripping the laces open in the back.

"We can't!" She said, pushing him away and holding her dress up. He raised an eyebrow.

"Come now Molly, we haven't seen each other for months. Don't you want a proper reunion?" He crept towards her menacingly.

"This is hardly proper," she said. Sherlock was not acting like himself at all, but something in the pit of her belly stirred. Something that made her desire him like this.

"Molly," he breathed, clutching her waist possessively.

Molly fought against her appetite. She looked around to check for Hudson, but he was nowhere to be found. This was crazy. Utterly crazy. But his eyes were so hypnotic…

She grinned devilishly at him, giving him the OK.

With that, he kissed her hungrily again, finishing what he started by ripping the dress off of her, revealing her white corset. He grabbed her and flung her on to the couch. When did he get so strong?

Molly welcomed him on top of her as he devoured her neck and chest with kissed. "Sherlock," she said breathlessly. She turned her head to the side, noticing a cane with silver dragon for a handle leaned against the wall.

"That isn't my name," he snarled, beginning to un-lace the corset.

"Wh…what?"

_"My name is Khan."_


End file.
